


Safety Blanket

by queen_sinnamon



Series: The Cha-Jung Household [13]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Cha-Jung Household, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 22:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7407847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_sinnamon/pseuds/queen_sinnamon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hongbin is sick and the entire family is worried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safety Blanket

**Author's Note:**

> Been working on this for awhile and I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Enjoy! ♥

Hongbin woke up terrified, shaking even as he curled up under his thick comforter. He had had a nightmare again, already forgotten when he opened his eyes but it had left him feeling heavy, heart racing.

His window was still dark, but the air-conditioner had already turned off automatically, leaving his room freezing cold to his skin.

“Shik-ah…” he called weakly, needing...something. An extra blanket, or Wonshik himself to keep warm, but fear had locked him in place, pushing his body down to the mattress, and he knows Wonshik wouldn’t come, wouldn’t hear him, wouldn’t wake. His brother sleeps like a rock.

Even if Wonshik _does_ wake, he wouldn’t know what to do anyway and just call eomma or appa. Hongbin didn’t want that, they were always so busy. He sniffled, only to find he couldn’t even do that. His nose was stuffed, so he breathed through his mouth, curling tighter into himself.

He screwed his eyes shut, breathing deeply to calm his rapidly beating heart, and willed himself back to sleep, shivering like a leaf under layers of blankets.

\---------------------------------------

When Hongbin woke again, he could hear distant mumbling, his back warm against the mattress. Too warm. He could feel his shirt sticking to his skin with sweat and he immediately wanted to bathe.

“Yeah, I think he’s sick…” he vaguely heard eomma’s full, warm voice, muffled. He must have been outside his door.

He peered at the digital clock on his bedside table. 8:20 am. His eyes snapped open as he sat up, the blood rushing to his head making him dizzy, but he managed to keep himself upright, sort of, bowing forward slightly instead of falling back down the mattress. His head, his body felt so heavy, unwilling to lift itself and he wanted so badly to heed it, but he had to go to school. He was late. Eomma was going to be furious.

He heard the door click open, then the bed dipped beside him, and he knew, with surprise, as a hand swept his hair, wet and sticking to his forehead, out of his face that it was Hakyeon. “It’s hot, eomma,” he complained, lifting his damp shirt from his chest with a bit of difficulty, his arms like lead. His voice sounded like a croak, throat itchy. He wanted a bath and a glass of water.

“Baby, you’re not feeling well.” It wasn’t a question, Hakyeon’s voice tight with worry, and his hands went to Hongbin’s shoulders, coaxing him back down on the bed, but the boy shook his head, wriggling from Hakyeon’s grasp. “Eomma, I’m late.”

Hakyeon allowed to him to swing his legs off the side of the bed, hopping off before promptly staggering, and hands quickly caught him by the armpits, seating him back on the mattress. “Not today, mister, you’re staying home,” Hakyeon said firmly, pushing him to lie down, and Hongbin followed, feeling too weak to resist anymore, at least physically.

“But I have school, and you have work,” he tried to argue. Hongbin knew eomma loved his work, loved dancing, and sometimes he watched him practicing, and Hongbin was always amazed. He didn’t want eomma to miss a day at the studio, but Hakyeon tutted affectionately, sweeping his hair back again to remove stray locks from his face. “You’re more important than school or work, my sweet boy.”

And Hongbin wanted so badly to cringe, to scowl at Hakyeon. Eomma was way too cheesy sometimes.He would have, but his body wouldn’t cooperate, stretching his lips into a sheepish smile, so he burrowed under his comforter again, his face feeling hotter than the rest of him.

Eomma was right, he wasn’t feeling well.

\---------------------------------------

Hongbin knew he must have fallen asleep again because when he next came to, the sun was no longer shining through his window, the sky outside a bright clear blue with tuffs of white here and there.

He felt hot and damp all over, though his entire body shivered, bundled up under his blanket and comforter as he was. Something cool rested on his forehead, and he reached up to find it was a cold patch, though it felt tepid on his fingertips now, warmed by his fever.

He heard voices outside his door again, muffled, but Ken was distinct in his loudness. “But appa, we wanna see Hongbinnie too,” he heard his brother say, whine actually. _We_ , he had said. Hyuk and Wonshik must have been by his sides. Hongbin could imagine them nodding, puppy eyes trained up at their father, they all knew how weak he was to the look, but Taekwoon must have steeled himself against it because he said (Hongbin had to really listen to hear his father’s soft voice), “No, you might catch it too. Stay here.”

He wanted to call out to them, tell them to come in, even just to see how he’s doing. They couldn’t have helped, he knew that, but it might have been comforting to have them around, even just for a little. However, Hongbin also agreed with their father. He didn’t want his brothers getting sick because of him, so he kept quiet, hiding under his blanket except for his eyes, looking expectantly towards the door.

He heard the doorknob’s metallic turn and Taekwoon stepped into the room, balancing a tray on one hand, the other still on the knob. Wickedly, he wished his brothers would barge in anyway, against their father’s wishes, but he also knew they wouldn’t disobey appa. Not in his face.

Wonshik and Hyuk managed to peek in, looking worriedly at Hongbin, before appa lightly kicked the door close, and eomma’s voice came through the door, “You heard appa. Come on.”

Taekwoon only then noticed that Hongbin was awake, and a small smile curled the corner of his lips. “How are you feeling?” he asked, voice soothing and breathy soft, as he placed the tray on the bed beside Hongbin.

“I’m okay,” said Hongbin as he sat up with some difficulty, but appa let him get up on his own, hands hovering near his shoulders to catch him should he fall. On the tray was a glass of water and a covered bowl that  smelled vaguely of chicken and warm milk. Appa’s macaroni soup. His favorite. He looked up at his father, eyes wide. “You don’t have work today?”

Taekwoon pursed his lips, maybe wondering if he should tell Hongbin, and the boy knew to wait for his father to think of what to say, uncovering his soup, the warmth of its steam billowing up welcome and familiar. Appa made it for him and his brothers whenever one of them was sick, or when it was rainy.

“I do, but I came home,” his father said as Hongbin picked up his spoon, bringing a mouthful of hot soup to his mouth and blowing, probably not enough and scalding his tongue but the heat was good and creamy. It warmed his body pleasantly, down to the tips of his toes and fingers, as he swallowed, before settling down in his stomach. He began to eat in earnest. “Eomma will stay here to watch over your brothers while we go to the doctor.”

The soup suddenly didn’t taste too good. Hongbin put his spoon down, eyes fixed on a floating carrot stick in his soup. “I’m sorry…” He sniffled, his nose made runny by the heat of the soup.

Too old for his age, too understanding for his own good, Hongbin knew how busy his fathers were, and he hated being a bother to them. It was why he learned how to take care of himself, of his brothers. He wanted to cry.

But before he could, Taekwoon placed his hand warmly on his head, ruffling his curls. “Why would you apologize for something we like doing?” said appa. If it was even possible for Hongbin to feel warmer, he would have, and all he could do was nod and continue eating his soup. Then Taekwoon laughed, a puff of air just slightly louder than his breath, small teeth in full display. “Besides, if I didn’t come home, you’d be eating eomma’s cooking.”

At the face Hongbin made, Taekwoon laughed, louder. “Or take out.”

“I can cook ramyun!” came eomma’s voice from the next room, making father and son laugh, before Hongbin answered “You mean burn ramyun!” and Taekwoon said, “Sure, dear.”

\---------------------------------------

“Are you sure you can do it yourself?” eomma asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, warm towel still in hand. He had wrestled Hongbin into letting him give the boy a spongebath and now they were having a staredown, Hakyeon insisting he dress Hongbin too, while Hongbin stood across him wearing only his underwear, arms crossed stubbornly across his chest.

Hongbin dropped the scowl just long enough to sniffle. “I can do it, eomma.” And he could, it would just take longer than it usually did.

Hakyeon pursed his lips and opened his mouth to argue when the door opened and Taekwoon poked his head in. “Hongbinnie, are you rea--” He was cut short as both Hakyeon, wearing his best pleading puppy face, and Hongbin, still frowning, turned to look at him. There was a few seconds of silence, none of them moving, as Taekwoon took in the sight of them and then sighed. “Hakyeon-ah, our son is sick, not disabled, and not any less hard-headed. I think he can dress himself up without help.”

Despite the throbbing in his head, Hongbin managed to smile at appa, dimples shadowing his cheeks, while Hakyeon stared slack-jawed at Taekwoon. Appa only laughed as he walked away, leaving the door open, knowing that Hakyeon would stomp after him like Ken sometimes did whenever something bad happened to Naruto or One Piece. Hongbin giggled as he closed the door behind eomma, regretting it immediately when the action scratched at his throat and sent him into a litte coughing fit.

When the coughing had calmed, he trudged to the bathroom he shared with Wonshik, hands cupping his neck as if to protect it from any more irritation. The warmth of his skin against his palms was bordering on uncomfortably hot while everything else, the tiles under his feet and even just the air around him felt chilly, making him shiver and goosebumps rise on his arms and legs.

One look at his closet and suddenly he wished he had at least let eomma set comfy clothes out for him so he wouldn’t have to dig for a sweater and pants in the cold, but he’d already left. He sighed then clenched his jaw, willing his teeth to stop chattering when he noticed something odd in the room. Something was out of place. Rather, something that wasn’t usually there suddenly was.

A pile of clothes sat on the counter by the sink. A pink cable-knit sweater he recognized to be Hyuk’s, still new as his brother was still waiting to grow into it. Soft cotton pajama bottoms peppered with little suns and rainbows that could only be Ken’s. A pair of thick white socks patterned with Mickey Mouse heads and a matching scarf that he knew to be Wonshik’s favorites.

Hongbin looked around, checking if his brothers were hiding somewhere, waiting to jump him, but all was quiet, not even a muffled telltale giggle to give Ken or Hyuk away, or Wonshik’s nervous shuffling. Hongbin took the pile into his arms, careful not to drop a sock, and hugged it to his chest as he would Ken, or Wonshik, or Hyuk had any of them been there.

“Thank you,” he muttered under his breath, feeling a little less cold than he had earlier as he pulled the garments on one by one.

\---------------------------------------

It was hours later when Hongbin and Taekwoon got home from the clinic, the barest traces of orange left on the navy horizon. Waiting for one test result after another and then sitting through Taekwoon and the doctor’s conversation had sapped what little energy the boy had, knocking him out as soon as he curled up in the backseat of the car, the seats pleasantly warm as appa turned the heating up.

Taekwoon chose not to wake him as they entered the garage, carrying him in his arms instead. With his hands full, Taekwoon had to knock on the door with his foot, careful not to jostle too much, face schooled into a sharp look that would silence whoever would open the door. He had correctly thought ahead as Hakyeon swung the door open, mouth already forming a sing-songy welcome that was immediately choked down by his own hands slapping over it.

Taekwoon couldn’t help the amused snort that escaped him. “Nice save,” he said as he stepped into the foyer, Hakyeon stepping back to give him room to toe out of his shoes. His husband offered his arms to take their son, but Taekwoon shook his head. By the pinched look on Hakyeon’s face, Taekwoon guessed he had exhausted himself with worry and babysitting their other kids, and still remembered to heat the jiggae Taekwoon had made before leaving, judging by the rich smell wafting from the kitchen. “I got him. You can rest, love.”

But of course Hakyeon didn’t, tailing them as Taekwoon went up the stairs to the bedrooms. The other boys' voices could be heard from the stairs, muffled and unintelligible. They probably hadn’t realized that they were already home. “How is he? What did the doctor say?” whispered Hakyeon, not wanting to wake Hongbin as well as alert his brothers. They were likely to cause a racket.

“Inflamed tonsils,” was all Taekwoon wanted to say but then he saw the alarm on Hakyeon’s face, and he sighed fondly. “Nothing antibiotics can’t fix, according to the doctor. He’s going to be fine.”

Hakyeon exhaled with relief, hand unconsciously clutching his chest. “Good.” Taekwoon paused in front of Hongbin’s door and Hakyeon quickly, quietly, opened the door. “I’ll watch over the kids for awhile. I already filed for a leave for a few days.”

At that, Taekwoon stopped, staring at his husband with affectionate disbelief, before he leaned over for a kiss that Hakyeon was only happy to give. A long, sweet kiss, interrupted when they heard a groan and the package in Taekwoon’s arms started squirming. They broke apart with a jerk and found Hongbin, mouth covered by his scarf but still evidently scowling up at them, his big eyes squinting dangerously.

“Gross,” he muttered, and his fathers giggled unabashedly, and Hakyeon tried to plant a kiss on his forehead, which the boy tried, and failed, .to dodge, unable to maneuver much.

“I’ll get you some food so you can take your meds,” Hakyeon said, ruffling his hair and then caressing Taekwoon’s cheek before heading back downstairs.

Taekwoon continued into the boy’s room, chuckling as he placed Hongbin on his bed. “Go easy on eomma,” he said as he unwound the scarf around Hongbin’s neck. “He’s been really worried for you.” Taekwoon folded the scarf neatly, placing it by Hongbin’s pillow. “Your brothers too, you know, even if they can’t come close.” He nodded toward the scarf, glanced at Hongbin’s sweater, and the boy blushed, nodding quietly.

Taekwoon knew how precocious Hongbin was. He had been since before they adopted him, if the nurses' stories of him taking care of Wonshik were any clue, and Taekwoon was actually proud of that. But sometimes, like now, he wanted Hongbin to feel his age, to not worry if he was bothering his parents, or his brothers, to let himself be cared for, and maybe, just maybe, Hongbin understood that.

Hongbin mumbled something under his breath and Taekwoon leaned in to hear better, tilting his bead questioningly. Their pretty son glared up at him, probably thinking Taekwoon was teasing him, but soon realized that his father was serious and sighed. “I wanna see them,” he said, just a breath louder, his voice still scratchy, doe eyes wide and pleading.

Taekwoon wasn’t sure if Hongbin was doing that on purpose but he was weak to it all the same. He couldn’t have said no even if he wanted to. “Okay, I’ll think of something.”

\---------------------------------------

“So you're not going to school all week?” Ken asked, awe in his face, his spoon suspended in front of his mouth as he looked up at Hongbin on the bed, slurping his jiggae. He was sitting on the floor, a little foldable picnic table laid out in front with his and his brothers' dinner, Wonshik to his right and Hyuk to his left, the empty side of the table pressed against Hongbin’s bed so they were facing one another.

It wasn’t as close as when they were sitting at the dining table, deliberately so they wouldn’t catch Hongbin’s sickness, but it made the boy happy all the same, lifting the weariness away from him, even for just a little, for just a short while.

Hongbin nodded at the question before tipping his bowl over so he could get at the meat and vegetables at the bottom.

“Jelly. I don’t wanna go to school,” Ken pouted, staring forlornly at his chopsticks, perhaps wondering if he could fake an excuse by shoving it up his nose or something.

Hyuk giggled. “Want me to remove the seals on your door, hyung? The ninjas will make you sick,” their youngest said, lips curling mischievously up at the corners, and Ken squawked indignantly. “No, thanks!”

Wonshik paused from eating only long enough to say “I’ll bring you notes if you help me with homework,” before shoveling a mouthful of rice into his mouth, puffing his cheeks full.

Hongbin made a face at him. “I always help you with homework,” he grouched, but then he grinned. “Deal, but I get your dessert for a week.”

Wonshik nearly dropped his bowl. “Whu!?” he protested, words muffled around his food and spitting bits of rice out.

“Doctor said ice cream will help,” Hongbin said, deliberately softening his voice to prove a point, smiling angelically at his brother. Wonshik grumbled in defeat, making Hongbin giggle, but all in jest. Wonshik wouldn’t deny Hongbin anything, and he knew, because he would do the same.

“Hey no fair! Help me with homework too!” said Ken, and then it was Hyuk making a face at him. “But you’re the hyung,” he said, disapproval only too clear on his face.

Ken spluttered, choking on his jiggae as his brothers laughed at him, telling him off even as Hongbin gestured for them to give him some water, Wonshik and Hyuk naturally offering their glasses. Ken took both and drained them one after another just to spite them, burping loudly and making them all giggle.

They had hardly recovered when the door opened and eomma stepped in, two amber bottles in one hand and a medicine cup in the other. “Ding ding! Nurse Hakyeonnie is here!” he sing-songed as appa appeared at the doorway, making a face at the back of his head, clearly as disturbed by that as they all were, the giggles replaced by displeased grunts. “Oh shush, let me do this just once.”

Hongbin watched as eomma placed the bottles on his bedside table, uncapping one and pouring a small amount into the medicine cup before handing it to him. Then he took the other bottle, tipping it into his palm and spilling a few pieces of the colorful chewable vitamins Hongbin and his brothers took everyday, sometimes more than once a day because they tasted like candy. Ken, Wonshik, Hyuk, and Hongbin eagerly held their palms out to get one, and Hakyeon happily obliged, taking a piece for himself and popping it into his mouth.

“Eomma, that’s our vitamins!” Hyuk said as he snatched at the bottle, which Hakyeon held away from his reach, only to be taken by Taekwoon.

They all turned to him to protest, but then he took two pieces himself and promptly chewed. “Eomma and appa need vitamins too, you know,” he said as he capped the bottle and slipped it into his pocket else anyone else in the room tried to make candies out of them again. It wouldn’t be the first time they ran out of chewable vitamins before they were supposed to. “How would we take care of you if we’re sick too?”

“You have those icky old people vitamins,” Ken said, scrunching his nose in distaste. The one time eomma and appa made them try their vitamins, some clear syrup that tasted just like oil, they had all gagged, and Hongbin had avoided those bottles ever since.

Eomma hummed. “True, but these taste so much better,” he said as he reached for appa’s pocket, but Hyuk was faster and sneakier, stealing it from appa and running to the other side of the room.

“Ha! Ninja technique number ten!” he exclaimed triumphantly, making Wonshik nearly spit out his water.

Hongbin giggled as he watched Hyuk dodge their mother around his room, Ken and Wonshik cheering him on while appa shook his head, chuckling.

His head still kind of hurt and his body felt like jelly, boneless and heavy, throat sore and useless, but Hongbin knew he was going to be fine. He had two loving fathers and three silly brothers with him, and that was warmer than any blanket anyone could ever wrap him in.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! ♥  
> If you enjoyed, liked, or loved this story, please let us know by leaving a comment, kudos, or a little gift to us through [here](http://paypal.me/ChaJungPiggybank)\--Please do note if it's a gift for the Cha-Jung Household. ♥
> 
> We're not requiring you to do any of that, it's completely up to you. We would just be very thankful for any and all kinds of feedback.
> 
> Have a nice day! ♥


End file.
